Hunting in Many Lands 



sleep as long as possible. I awoke my crew at 

 a little after 5, and he, unassisted, launched the 

 raft. The swamp grass buoyed it up manfully, 

 so that it looked as if it disdained to touch the 

 yellow waters of the lake. When it had been 

 pushed along till the water was found to be two 

 feet deep, I had myself carried to the raft and 

 seated myself on the box. I was clad only in 

 a flannel shirt, and carried my .577 with ten 

 rounds of ammunition. As we slowly started 

 on our way, my men woke up one by one, and 

 shouted cheering words to us, such as, " Look 

 out for the crocodiles ! " "If master dies, who'll 

 pay us ! " These cries, added to the dismal 

 chill of the air and my boatman's only too ap- 

 parent dislike of his job, almost caused me to 

 turn back ; but, of course, that was out of the 

 question. 



Half an hour from the shore found me on 

 the edge of the open water, and, as if to endorse 

 my undertaking, day began to break. That 

 sunrise! Opposite me the rough outlines of 

 the Ugucno Mountains, rising several thousand 

 feet, lost their shadows one by one, and far to 

 the right towered Mt. Kilimanjaro, nearly four 

 miles high, its snowy rounded top roseate with 

 the soft light of dawn. But in Africa at least 



16 



